There was no way they could have survived the horde. Almost instantaneously, her mind reversed course: of course Jules was alive, they had never faced a challenge whose ass they couldn’t kick, and they had the stores of righteous rage that all retail employees collected. Reinforcements had been on their way, right? It was impossible to think that Jules was dead. But there were so many Danas and Marks, how could Jules have survived?

Ava’s brain spun in circles, unable to decide if Jules was alive or dead, triumphant or lying in pieces. It was like looking at all the mirrored realities that she’d seen in the collapsing maskhål; but instead of cracking apart, dispersing into the void, these seemed to grow larger, crowd her brain more violently. Alive. Dead. Happy. Dismembered. Alive and celebrating victory. Torn into bloody pieces and cursing Ava with their last breath.

Ava lost minutes to the static in her head, before she could remember how breathing worked and how to move her limbs. She was left with the overwhelming urge to sleep, to stress-nap away the next several hours. She briefly thought of her favorite LitenVärld cube for illicit naps, the Goth Spinster room that was draped in black and velvet. But even that made her shudder. More than anything, Ava realized, she wanted to get the hell out of this store.

And she never wanted to come back.

Her legs felt like rubber when she stood, but held her weight after a few wobbly steps. She made her way out of Tricia’s office, then into the break room. She grabbed the coat out of her locker, her hat and gloves, and was about to shut it again when her eyes drifted to Jules’s locker.

Back when they’d first started dating, the two of them would leave silly, stupid notes in each other’s lockers. Jules occasionally folded theirs into complicated origami: whales, giraffes, penguins. Ava had saved them, of course. After the breakup she’d shoved them all into a shoebox, along with all of the other detritus and memorabilia from their relationship.

Ava pulled open Jules’s locker, crouching in front of it to look inside. She was first confronted by a bunch of dirty lunch containers, of course. Ava had to laugh, because honestly, Jules was such a slob about some shit. Some unopened granola bars. Their winter coat, an old dumpy thing that they’d bought from a Goodwill ages ago.

And, hiding at the back, the scarf that Ava had made for them. She remembered the sight of it around their throat that morning, how it had made her stomach churn and acid sting her throat.